


Working

by chains_archivist



Category: Simon and Simon (TV)
Genre: Incest, M/M, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-17 22:10:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3545582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chains_archivist/pseuds/chains_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ten Credit Whore challenge from Boys In Chains</p><p>By Angel</p>
            </blockquote>





	Working

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Dusk, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [Boys in Chains](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Boys_in_Chains), which opened in 2000 as a multifandom archive for both fiction and art, but then sadly went offline in 2005. To bring the archive back, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in December 2014. Open Doors [posted an announcement](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/1832) and e-mailed all creators about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this [author/artist], please [contact the Open Doors committee](http://transformativeworks.org/contact/open%20doors).

He sat at the bar, nothing stronger than soda in his glass, listening to the dark guy on the next stool go on. A talker. Oh, this should be fun.   
  
He watched as the mark pushed back his cowboy hat, and raised the longneck beer. "Paid sex surrogates." He drank. "Pretty blonds." He raised the beer again, and drank to that idea. "You workin'?"   
  
"Yeah, I'm workin'."   
  
"You any good?" The john looked him over, taking in the too-tight black polo that showcased his chest and the peaked nipples that poked through it, and the tight cut jeans, designed especially to show his butt and basket.   
  
"The best."   
  
"Going rate, plus extra for you."   
  
"Your room."   
  
They took the elevator together and the client opened his room, making an "after you" gesture. He sat on the edge of the bed and shucked the shirt.   
  
"Nice. I like it." The guy had big, blunt hands, and they were all over him, and that mustache was tickling on his neck and shoulder. "Take off your pants."   
  
The customer was always right. He stood up and dropped the jeans as his customer watched. Of course, he was already hard, it was a necessity of the trade.   
  
"How?" He lifted his arms slightly for a better display of the wares.   
  
"You've got a beautiful ass. Bend over and put your hands on the bed."   
  
He obeyed. Two lubricated fingers spread him before a condom-enclosed cock, ribbed no less, rammed in with no finesse. The guy was gripping his ass, and babbling away about how gorgeous he was, and how tight, as he pounded.   
  
His wrists hurt. He wished the client would hurry. If all went well, he could be back in the bar in about an hour. The more tricks the better. His pimp took a flat fee, that he had to pay every night, no matter how many tricks he turned. Tonight, he'd made the cut, and everything else was gravy.   
  
There, the cowboy was done. He pulled slightly away and let the guy know he was wearing out. Mustache pulled out. He heard the unmistakable sound of latex, then something wet landed on his back, followed by something light.   
  
"I'm gonna take a leak. You best be gone by the time I get out, little whore, or I'll shove you down on your faggot knees and fuck your mouth so hard you won't be able to swallow for a week.   
  
He stood up, painfully flexing his wrists, and felt the items fall. He wiped the slime off his back with a corner of the sheet and dressed hastily. He looked where the things had fallen: the used condom, and bill. He picked it up and Alexander Hamilton looked back at him from the damp paper.   
  
"Cheapskate," he grumbled, ducking out the door as the toilet flushed.   
  
***   
  
The wind felt good and clean as the Trans-Am ate up the road between Vegas and San Diego. The case was solved, and a healthy check waited for them. Only one matter remained to be cleared up.   
  
"Rick." AJ nudged his dozing brother.   
  
He stirred and tipped his cowboy hat up from covering his face. "Yeah?"   
  
"Next time we go undercover, you're the hustler."   
  
"Nah..."   
  
  *end*


End file.
